


Never Play Chess With The Devil

by thaisameyka



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Halloween, Hannibal is Hannibal, Light daddy kink, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Sassy Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 09:13:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12578452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thaisameyka/pseuds/thaisameyka
Summary: It's finally here: my first Hannigram fic. I've been nervous about posting it because, as a lot of you already know, my native language it's not English, but Brazilian Portuguese...Anyway, I also wanted to do something special for Halloween, so here it is!And I hope you enjoy it!!!





	Never Play Chess With The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here: my first Hannigram fic. I've been nervous about posting it because, as a lot of you already know, my native language it's not English, but Brazilian Portuguese...  
> Anyway, I also wanted to do something special for Halloween, so here it is!
> 
> And I hope you enjoy it!!!

Will looked at the mirror one last time, straightening the tie in its right place. He passed his long fingers through his hair, trying to fix the long curl that kept falling in front of his eyes. The only solution was to tuck it behind his ear, and coat it with a little bit of gel.

He wanted to laugh.

_I look ridiculous._

The dark red and grey suit was too large and too long, even if he had tried to shorten the sleeves; the tie was too tight, almost suffocating him; the hair… God, he hated his hair like this – he thought he would look more elegant, more polished, but he wasn’t Hannibal. He didn’t have the same body or the same manners. He was not small, or even a short guy: he just didn’t look like Hannibal – and he especially didn’t feel like Hannibal, even though he could feel him in every atom of his body.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get rid of this spark of insecurity he was experiencing – the lack of confidence was already the usual, but now, when he saw himself compared with Hannibal, everything got way worse.

Will often thought good things about himself. Oh, he knew there was something twisted and dark about him. But he couldn’t stop to feel, deep inside, a little bit better than most people. A little bit smarter. A little bit more special, in his own, sick way – and who doesn’t want to feel unique? He didn’t – not for a long time.

When he was younger, Will used to spend nights awake, thinking about how he could understand people so much and still not be able to be just like them. Now, after meeting Hannibal so many years ago, he had finally found a place where he belonged – and someone who he belonged to.

He knew Hannibal felt the same. And if he wasn’t scared about killing people who deserve to die, why would a three-piece make him anxious?

He turned off the lights and stepped out.

_As soon as I show up, sooner I can go back to be my old self._

After leaving the room, his hand on the handrail, he climbed down the stairs, trying to act as calm as Hannibal would on a daily crisis. Still, he couldn’t stop looking at his own feet - shining leather shoes - and didn’t even notice Hannibal there, waiting for him at the main hall.

Before his last step, he looked up and froze: Hannibal was dressed just like Will used to dress often.

His shocked eyes gazed upon every single inch at the other’s body, toe to head, until it met Hannibal’s smirk.

He knew that would happen. Hannibal had the idea as their own way to celebrate Halloween. “ _It’s almost Vélines, and I would suggest we disguise to trick the Devil”_. Will shouldn’t be so surprised, but seeing him dressed like this was too weird and too intriguing.

Will wished he could look as good as Hannibal looked right now, in a black and red plaid shirt and caqui pants. The blond hair, despite being shorter than Will’s, was all messy and scruffy, almost covering his almond eyes. That was the moment Will realized how much time had passed, now that they were in Cuba – Hannibal’s hair wasn’t as short as it used to be.

Hannibal was wearing the greyish-green jacket Will used to wear – the one the doctor despised so much.

But Hannibal was too smart. Oh, he was.

He didn’t borrow Will’s old clothes – he bought new ones. For his own size. Brand new clothes, even shoes! Will had no idea how he had done that, considering they were still being hunted by the FBI, but he didn’t really want to know: he was astonished and outraged.

His clothes were Hannibal’s, and he looked ashamed for all the extra fabric (he knew it wasn’t that much, but enough to bother him).

_Of course he wouldn't let himself feel humiliated this way. God, I should know him better at this point._

At this moment, Will was fighting with what to say – too many feelings almost overwhelming him.

“Wha… I… You look different.” Those were the only words to leave his mouth.

Hannibal’s sneer disappeared and he suddenly contorted his lips, moving his shoulders in a way Will had never seen before while their eyes were really meeting for the first time.

When he spoke, the brunette knew exactly that all of that was a huge mistake.

“This? This... Is my design _.”_

_Oh, no. No, no, no. NO._

Will couldn’t believe this was happening. _So that was his plan all along!!!_

The whole Halloween costume scheme was just a bad excuse for more mind games. However, Will had to admit that he would never get bored with Hannibal by his side.

“Oh, Will, you can be so naive sometimes…” Will was actually talking to himself, but Hannibal saw a great opportunity there.

“Why, doctor Lecter?”

Hannibal was good. _Goddamn, he_ _’_ _s too good._ He looked almost shy, almost trying to hide himself from the world. He seemed vulnerable - for the first time in his entire life. And Will didn’t hate that. No, he hated the fact of thinking he acted this way most of the time. Or at least, he used to. And Hannibal took advantage of the whole situation, just so he could manipulate Will’s mind. And this could be a good time for a payback.

“Are we no longer on a first-name basis?” Will couldn’t cover an open, beautiful smile while saying this, focusing on the buttons in his cuffs.

Hannibal seemed happy for Will taking the bait.

“I’m afraid not, doctor. You see, we faced a lot of things together, but this is my way to convince myself we’re not that close. I think it’s working… Don’t you agree?”

Hannibal put his hands in the jackets pockets, in an attempt to show how determinate he was in keeping his strategy, even if he could play the perfect timid, disturbed guy. All of a sudden, it seemed Hannibal hadn’t slept in days, and Will barely felt bad for him.

_How does he do that? And why is he trying to tease me?_

Will was feeling such a fool. For him, it was incredibly hard to play Hannibal’s role: Hannibal was everything he wasn’t,though they were equals. He closed his eyes, letting the golden pendulum swing – maybe empathy could be a superpower that would help him in this psycho role-playing game.

With his eyes wide shut, Will threw his head back, talking in an oddly serene voice: “I’m too overbearing, and I’ll still call you William, even if it makes you feel so powerless…” Then he opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling. “Maybe that’s the reason why I do it.”

He smiled and looked back at the man in front of him. Hannibal loved that smile, and he loved when Will was fiercely sassy, nearly rude.

Hannibal licked his upper lip, trying to move his fingers inside the pockets. He knew Will was finally taking this chance to let go of the grudge he’s been holding on against Hannibal – not before saying everything that was trapped in his chest. And Hannibal would permit it to happen: after all, Will was there, with him, and they would only move past the obstacles if they removed them. That was exactly what he was intending with this game. And like chess, he was waiting for the next turn.

Instead of giving an answer, Hannibal prefered just to face the floor. Will was now looking uninterruptedly to that big guy who was pretending so well to be clumsy and invisible.

The thinner man could smell something in the air. Since they ran away and started to live together, one of Hannibal’s main goals was to enhance Will’s senses – olfactory was one of them. The food would take a long time to be ready, but he knew exactly what it was.

It was time to move the pawn.

“I’m cooking a backbone stew - cajun style, just for you, my dear William.”

Hannibal smiled and Will felt proud of himself for the development of his new skill.

“Thanks…” Hannibal raised his eyes up to Will “It makes me roughly miss Louisiana. I like it. Lots of bones, though…”

“Don’t worry… I’m sure you’ll get used to bones very, very soon.” Will waited for a second, trying in vain to keep the next words to himself. “Talking about bones, what about your skull? The one I tried to saw off in Florence? Any damages?”

He immediately regretted saying it, but it was too late.

_I shouldn’t say anything. I’m doing exactly what he wants._

And he was. Hannibal wishes he could travel back in time and tell his double to never do that. He was heartbroken, it’s true – for the second time. Still, to be honest, he wishes he could go back and do a lot of things differently. But he would never admit it to Will that easily, although they both knew it.

Hannibal let a sad grin open up in his face.

“Maybe… I fell in love with a serial killer, after all.”

Will was now at the last step of the stairs. Being on a higher level made him feel a little superior than Hannibal – that was really important in this insane situation.

“Love? Will, love is…” Will said before he sighed, almost frustrated “I could give you a thousand of insights of every single psychanalyst that has ever studied this subject. However, I must say that love and falling in love are two very different topics. For example: I loved you since the first words we shared.”

Hannibal’s eyes squinted. He hated to be analyzed like that, so deep and so real. Will was turning the table. _That’s gonna be interesting._

“It took me years to realize you were falling in love with me, and I fell in love with you when you started to open yourself up, especially right after you pretended to kill Mrs. Lounds… But I loved you, indeed, since the beginning. Do you remember? I do…” Will finally had darkness covering him up, inside and out, showing up in his shiny eyes, and Hannibal saw himself there for the first time. “I was talking about love, forts, even the Cappella Palatina. Everything we would share one day it was there, but you had no clue. You had no idea about how much you would suffer for me. You had no idea that love could be something made to give you freedom, but also made to imprison you forever.”

Hannibal felt terribly bad – Will loved him so profoundly, and he loved Will like no one could possibly love any other person in this world. But he also knew what it took for them to be together right now, and how much Will had lost in this whole process. They had talked about it before – more than a hundred times, but never quite like this. Maybe the role-playing was the right thing to do, and Hannibal would keep playing this chess game until the very end, trying to reach for victory no matter what.

The older man leaned forward, whispering in Will’s direction: “C’mon, Will... You're the pessimist here, not me.”

Hannibal blinked, switching as fast as he could to his coy character, now looking around: “But I went to a hospital for the criminally insane just for you.”

Will grinned. He moved his jaw side to side, trying to not react the way Hannibal was expecting. He preferred to simply reply with a hiss between his teeth: “You didn’t go for me. I sent you there. I made you believe I was your friend, and I made you believe you were going crazy. I almost destroyed your life. You were my puppet – and you still are, right now, in this exact moment.”

With his eyes back to contemplate Will, Hannibal actually looked thoughtful - not in Will’s paranoid, agitated way, but in a cold, psychotic way.

Will was right to be angry about what happened – even if the events turned out alright. Hannibal knew Will wasn’t trying to hurt him – or maybe he was, but at this point he could only offer himself to the knife. He had to say something, and he had to correct some affirmatives that, hopefully, to him, Will was just saying for the sake of this sick game.

“I… understand.” Hannibal could feel the knot in his throat “I’m clearly still upset about it. As I should be. But you were my friend, Hannibal. You were there for me when no one else was, and allowed me to look at someone’s eyes for the first time in my life. You were trying to see me achieving my full potencial.” And between a murmur, “I admit it, maybe it wasn’t the best way…”

Will was rolling his eyes up, tired of hearing the same excuse again, but something was somehow distinct this time.

Hannibal continued: “Listen to me. One last time, just listen: it wasn’t the best way, but I tried to kill you. Matthew Brown, remember? Not because you were the Cheseapeak Reaper, but because I was afraid I was becoming like you.” Hannibal didn’t want to break character, not now; this was his game .“With my beautiful brain and my empathy, I can see how painful that was for you: you tried to kill me later because you were heartbroken and you didn’t know how to deal with that because you had never loved someone as much as you loved me… You didn’t even know it was possible… But I tried to kill you because I despised who you were and who I was becoming, while you loved me for who I have always been.”

Will wasn’t prepared for that. He was speechless and he had no idea what to feel right now. Hannibal, on the other hand, had one last thing to say, never breaking Will’s role: “And I’m thinking about the sweet Abigail right now. Our daughter. And there is not a day that I don’t think about what could have been, and what you took from me. But you're a psychiatrist, so you should understand… You took it from yourself, too. You destroyed this dream we both had, of a beautiful, free family, living together, eating the rude… You were so broken you took this opportunity of all of us being happy and tore it apart. I know your regret, and I know you would change everything now if you only could. This will always haunt me, and I know you understand that… Hannibal.”

The silence in the air that followed such hard words was so heavy they both could feel the pressure around them. Will’s stomach seemed extremely empty very suddenly – not because the lack of food, but because the butterflies that abruptly stopped flying. He had to anchor himself in the ground beneath his expensive shoes for not to fall in the pit of despair that was opening around him. He was feeling sick and melancholic now, and he blamed it on Hannibal: they could had talked about this as two ordninary adults. The fact that Hannibal talked all the time, giving every single possible chance, was not a problem – the problem was that he had never confessed any of this to Will. Not like this.

It was so much easier for Hannibal to admit that he would take everything back talking as a third person, and Will also knew that. But this was not an excuse for keeping all those feelings bottled up for such a long time. This mind game was definitely being played by two.

Will had teary eyes. Tender, green, big eyes. But he wouldn’t cry. He was sad and choleric, and he wouldn’t give up now. The game was still on, and if Hannibal wanted to play, he would play.

Hannibal was quicker, and his voice sounded more like himself at this moment and less like Will’s when he spoke: “And although I rarely pay a compliment to your food, it smells rather nice in here.”

Will thought for a moment about what to answer. Hannibal was trying to change the subject after such an intense talk, and he knew why. But that was Hannibal’s Halloween idea, and he would not stop now – not until he has said everything he needed to say. The doctor had his turn, and had definitely trapped Will’s queen.

It was time for Will to regain his own strength.

“Well, I appreciate the courtesy. Will, you should know, by now, that like most psychopaths, I’m a narcisist. And my God complex doesn’t help me to hide completely in a vivid fiction, so I’m feeling compelled to tell you a fake story about how I hunted this beautiful animal even if I definitely don’t look the type of person who would pursue a creature like a pig.”

In spite of the words being harsh, the voice was velvety and Will’s smirk soothed every single one of them. Hannibal couldn’t win; but he still had a couple pawns.

“Oh, but… you did it before. didn’t you, doctor?” - Hannibal’s eyes had a shadow covering them, and Will found Hannibal breaking the role again and showing himself between the syllables. Maybe Will could actually beat the other man.

Hannibal didn’t give time to Will to continue. Instead, he just said:

“So… Now will you tell this story in a very clever way, trying to hide all the possible hints of cannibalism into metaphors, and I won’t see it because I’m clearly too in love to open my blind eyes, right?”

_Ok. He is trying to win. Now it’s my turn._

Every conversation between them was always like a dangerous chess board; every word was a piece, every smile was a movement. And just because it was Halloween it didn’t mean it was less intricate – or less mortal.

Will opened up a big smile.

“Not that clever, considering I’d surrender my life for this man who hated me so deeply and violently.”

A grunt escaped from Hannibal’s lips, but he wasn’t hurt - no, he was delighted. Will was letting all the rage go; all the sorrows, all the obstacles in their ways were staying behind, and that was incredible. But he wouldn’t let Will win in his own game. That was out of the question.

He moved his back again, rolling his shoulders like Will used to do when he was feeling too uncomfortable within a situation.

“Hate is a very strong word, don’t you think? To be fair, we both know that hate and love walk side by side in the road of feelings.” Hannibal carefully stepped towards Will’s direction; their bodies didn’t touch for a couple of inches in between them. The taller man lowered his voice: “But you’re right… and after everything, I got married and had a boring, ordinary life with Molly and her little one.”

Will held his breath.

_Molly…_

They rarely talk about her and Wally. Will had decided, a long time ago, that it would be better for them if he completely vanished from their lives. But he was able to find out, later on, that she had married again – a guy that had no criminal or mental history – and Wally was doing great at school, and probably didn’t even remember him.

Sometimes, Will missed the fabricated life he built for himself, almost perfect. And he missed the dogs. _Damn, the dogs…_

Hannibal had played Molly’s card, and he must have been pretty upset for doing this. But they were still playing, and Will knew Hannibal wanted him to not give up on the middle of it…

“So I presume you had lots of intercourse during this time, am I right, Will?”

_Oh, maybe that’s it._

Hannibal wrinkled his nose too fast – but not fast enough that Will wouldn’t realize it. He was incredibly bothered by Will’s sexual past (especially because Hannibal wasn’t included in it), but he was too proud to say. Instead, his only answer was: “Well, yes, but… Always thinking about you.”

_Touché._

Will licked his lips, now looking at his own hand, trying to focus on any other thing than his own arousal. Those last minutes (that seemed infinite) were so important for their relationship and he was only understanding the real meaning of everything right now. Will was feeling light and free, and he wasn’t hurt or angry anymore: listening to Hannibal talking like this, like he would – or wouldn’t (but he would definitely think like this) – made him see everything through Hannibal’s eyes. It was a new perspective that even Will, in all his empathy, couldn’t understand before. Hannibal didn’t think Will was small, or weak, or naive. He didn’t think Will was less, or just a toy. His interest in Will wasn’t just because how Will felt about him, especially because they just had discussed about how Hannibal fell in love with him first.

Hannibal always wanted Will to see him as an equal. Man, God, both. He wanted to be seen, and he wanted to be accepted. He wanted to be loved and adored. He wanted to be the one with whom Will would share this great and twisted love story.

_His face is so close… But we still have some pieces on the board._

Will brushed his lips on Hannibal’s ones, before moving them closer to the blonde’s ears. And then Will whispered: “I also thought a lot about you in my cell, Will. They took my freedom, my privacy, my dignity. They mocked me, studied me, humiliated me. And I allowed them: it was the price to pay to be able to see you again. I love you so much that I would let myself live my worst nightmares, as my own punishment to myself for the ones I caused to you.”

Before Will had hardly finished his line, Hannibal bit his neck. Not too hard, not too much – just enough for Will to feel his pants not so loose anymore.

Hannibal was happy with a zero-sum game. They played, they pay. It didn’t matter anymore.

Will was finally able to talk about the things he had to say and had stripped Hannibal from his daily disguise - that mask he wouldn’t allow anyone else to peak behind it but the one he loved.

And now Hannibal needed to strip the brunnete out of his own clothes.

Will groaned when Hannibal bit him a little harder (he should have never told him, a cannibal, how much he enjoyed that in the first place), before their lips met and their tongues, fast and urgent, tangled.

In between the kisses, Will said, trying to draw some breath: “I know the food will take a while to be ready, and I know it’s Halloween, but let’s take off these clothes – I feel like I’m too small; a son dressed with grown-up clothes, trying to impress his daddy.”

Will was about to kiss Hannibal again, when he realized he was back being Will. And Hannibal was now Hannibal: his big hands pulling Will’s hair very slowly while he let a hiss escape from his lips:

“What did you just say… cunning boy?”

They both knew – it wasn’t a zero-sum game anymore. It was Will’s victory.

_Checkmate._

  


**Author's Note:**

> One little thing about the title (now that you read the fic): I wanted it to be ambiguous - we always think that, in this relationship, Hannibal is the Devil... But maybe he's not. ;)
> 
> Special thanks to Jenniré Narváez (the first person to read this fic and to give me her awesome insights!) and Matt Meyka (for proofreading everything - and hearing me talking about Hannigram 24/7).  
> Also, thank you so much, fannibals on Twitter: you're always so kind and so supportive! When I mentioned I was writing my first Hannigram fic, you motivated me so much! I love you!!!


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